Misconceptions
by Chelsee6
Summary: Misconception is the mother of mistakes. Minor spoiler for Committed Season 5, Episode 20. Warnings: Femslash; Catherine/Sara, Language, Smut!


A/N: First story in a while, I know. Hope you enjoy it.

* * *

The crime scene was a mess; littered with broken bottles, cigarette butts, various other bits of garbage, and there's a pervading smell of urine. The dead body lay in the corner, pushed aside, covered with cardboard and forgotten. Catherine squatted down beside it, letting her flashlight play over the features of the dead woman. Beaten, raped and smothered. Sighing, she briefly wondered 'why?' before she pushed the thought away and got down to business.

Catherine was distracted some time later by the ringing of her cell phone. She frowned momentarily, checking caller ID. It was flashing _Sara Sidle_; Catherine blinked, puzzled. Sara had already left for her scene when she had arrived at the lab; the result of being there earlier—or perhaps much later—than required. She flipped open the phone, placing it to her ear, she was about to voice her usual greeting when she heard Sara's voice and her breath caught in her throat.

"Come on, just put the gun down." The brunette sounded scared; Catherine knew she must be terrified for that emotion to show through in her voice, especially over the crackling telephone connection. She turned around to face Warrick who was working the perimeter. Silently she motioned for him to get out his phone as she continued listening, hoping to catch something, anything that might be useful.

"Shut up bitch. Just…shut up, I need to think." It was a man holding the gun, he sounded panicked, scared…Catherine felt the bottom of her stomach drop out. A nervy hostage taker was always risky.

Catherine placed her hand over the mouthpiece of her phone and stage whispered, "Call Brass. Sara's in trouble at her scene." She watched as a grave look settled over Warrick's face and he nodded, punching in the speed dial for the detective and relaying the message to him. Catherine listened intently to the conversation on the other side of the phone.

"Just, calm down please. You don't want to do anything stupid. I told you my name, how about you tell me yours?" Catherine was silently proud of Sara; it seemed she had learnt something about negotiation. Knowing her, she had probably taken a course on it after the last time someone had tried to hold her hostage.

"FUCKING SHUT UP. Stupid, you want STUPID?"

"No, I just want to know what happened. Why don't you sit down?"

"I killed her…" The man's voice changed, from anger to desolation. "I fucking killed her, that's what happened."

Warrick attracted Catherine's attention, "Brass is going to swing past here to collect you on his way; he needs more information." Catherine nodded and went back to listening, feeling her heart tighten at the possibility of any harm coming to Sara.

"Do you think there's a gene for murder? I mean…it seems like everything else is linked to your genes…is there…something that…that gives to a propensity towards…towards killing someone?"

"I don't know."

"You're a scientist right, that's what you said, and you investigate murders…give me your goddamn opinion." The man was getting angrier again, Catherine sighed with relief when she saw Brass's unmarked car pull up and she slid in quickly, covering the mouthpiece.

"Seems the perp cornered her, he said he killed some woman so I'm assuming that she is Sara's vic. He's got a gun, I don't know if it's his or Sara's." Brass nodded grimly as he stepped on the pedal, his mouth set into a firm line. Catherine turned her concentration back to the phone. She didn't allow herself to think that she might be hearing Sara's last conversation.

"There is evidence that children who witness violence might grow up to practice it, and that it's more likely than children who haven't witnessed violence growing up to become violent, but there's never been a study about propensity to murder."

"I didn't ask about studies, I asked your fucking opinion!" Catherine tensed as she heard the man get angrier.

"No. I don't think there's a gene for murder." Catherine blinked at the succinct answer, it wasn't like Sara, usually she put some reasoning behind her statements. Catherine had wondered about the murder gene, just idly, a few times. It had been after she found out Sam was her father. She knew he'd murdered that girl, only she had jeopardised the case and now he could never be convicted. It had caused her to wonder if she could ever kill another human. She had said she could, once, if her daughter's life was on the line, she had said she would do it without hesitation. Now Catherine wasn't so sure, perhaps because now the prospect was a little more real than the hypothetical. Maybe there was a gene for murder, who knew?

"Why not?" The man seemed shocked at her answer, perhaps he had wanted her to answer in the affirmative. That was something to go on.

Catherine covered the mouthpiece, "It sounds like one of his parents was a murderer." She relayed to Brass before returning her concentration to the phone once more.

"Because, there's only one person responsible for your actions, and that's you." Sara retorted, Catherine winced at the accusation in her voice and prayed that the man wouldn't get trigger happy.

"You…you think that…that watching your father kill your mother…and your brother…while you're hiding in the cupboard…before he leaves the room and you hear you sister scream…you think that doesn't do something to you? You think that you're perfectly capable of living a normal life after that?"

Catherine swallowed and relayed the new information to Brass as she kept one ear on the conversation. "Sounds like his father killed his mother, brother and sister, and…" Catherine trailed off as she heard Sara start to speak again; she didn't want to miss anything important.

"Normal life, no. But I don't think it gives you a predisposition to murder."

"What the fuck would you know bitch? I'll bet you lived in a pretty little house with a white picket fence. I'll bet you had brothers; that's why you're such a tomboy. I'll bet at least one of them is a cop. I'll bet you were daddy's little girl, oh-so-smart; your parents paid for your nice fancy college, am I right?"

"No." Catherine swallowed at the ice in Sara's voice. Somehow she knew that whatever was to come was not pretty.

"Go on then, tell me where I'm wrong…but I'll bet I'm close. I'm a fucking shrink you know that. I get paid to listen to other people's stinking problems about how their fucking husband doesn't listen to them any more and the kids aren't trying hard enough at school and their mother doesn't approve of anything they do and I AM SICK TO FUCKING DEATH!"

"I'm an only child." Sara's voice was deathly calm and Catherine felt a fist of ice close over her heart. She sounded resigned. This wasn't the Sara she knew, the Sara she knew wouldn't give up. She breathed a small sigh of relief as they pulled up outside the scene. There were already officers on scene and a split second later a large van pulled up and the S.W.A.T team piled out. Catherine slowly released a breath and turned to Brass, covering the mouth piece once more she stated, "He says he's a shrink. Sounds like he's private."

"Ok, so no brothers. Keep going, how wrong am I exactly."

"No white picket fence. My parents were alcoholics and drug addicts. My father used to beat my mother, sometimes he'd beat me. You know a bag of oranges with some weights in it will bruise the muscle and it hurts like hell, but you can't see the bruise on the skin."

Catherine's eyes widened as she took in what she was hearing. Sara wasn't lying, she knew that much; it explained why she went off the deep end at the slightest hint of domestic abuse, it explained why she usually flinched if someone went to touch her.

"When I was nine I watched my mother murder my father."

That sentence actually made Catherine gasp. Brass turned to her, an agonized look on his face. Catherine realised what thought was running through his head and she shook hers. No gunshots, not yet.

"Yet I still managed to get through High School, I put myself through college, I got a good job, and I haven't killed anyone. I never could."

"You underestimate yourself."

"You overestimate yourself."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"It means two things, one; you're a half rate shrink, and two; I don't think you killed her."

Catherine held her breath as she waited to see what the outcome would be. She hoped that he would focus on the second half of that sentence, rather than the first.

"Of course I killed her…she's…she's dead, isn't she?" Now he just sounded confused

"Yes, she's dead. But I worked with the coroner's office for three years; I can make a pretty educated guess at cause of death, let me have a closer look…I'll just go into the bedroom, ok?"

Catherine swallowed; this was probably going to be their best chance. She waved Brass over and relayed the information. "Sara might be going into the bedroom, just hang on."

"Are you coming with me?"

"I…I can't look at her."

"Alight, I'm going into the bedroom now." Catherine breathed a sigh of relief as she covered the mouth piece once again.

"Sara's in the bedroom, he's not." Brass nodded grimly and gave the order to move in. Catherine followed along behind, wanting to see that Sara was ok for herself. She heard the door give way through the phone connection, and then there was shouting. A few seconds of commotion later and Catherine heard a gunshot.

Her heart paused as the muscles in the throat closed up. It was painstaking, waiting in the hallway, and it seemed to be forever before the S.W.A.T leader stepped out of the doorway and indicated the all clear. A split second later Catherine was through the door, taking in the man on the floor in a rumpled business suit with a hole in his chest and Sara standing in the doorway to the bedroom looking ashen. Sara stumbled, colliding with the door frame, and slowly she sunk to the floor. Catherine was beside her a moment later, her hand cupping the younger woman's cheek as she turned her face away from the man on the floor so that Sara was looking into her eyes. "You're ok. It's ok. You're safe." The whispered words of comfort spilled forth as she gathered Sara into her arms.

Slowly she helped the brunette to her feet and guided her out of the room. They silently rode the lift down to the lobby of the hotel and Catherine pulled her into a quiet corner making her sit. Sara seemed to be in shock; her body was trembling, her eyes were glazed. Her skin felt cold and clammy to the touch. Catherine glanced around and seeing a uniform officer standing some distance from them she called him over. "I need you to get me a warm blanket and a drink of juice." She instructed, waiting for a nod in confirmation before she turned back to Sara. "Sara." The woman's name fell from her lips softly as she tried to find a way to pull her out of her head.

Sara was silent for several moments before she raised her face, stating, "COD was an OD. He didn't kill her." Her voice was wobbly, and weak. Catherine noticed a lone tear tracing her cheek and she pulled Sara closer. Her eyes widened with surprise as Sara buried her nose into her neck, and clung to her just as tightly as Catherine was clinging to her. The uniformed officer came back several minutes later with the blanket and a bottle of juice, and Catherine smiled her thanks as she wrapped the blanket around Sara's shoulders, waiting until the younger woman had finished crying before she offered her the bottle of juice.

Sara smiled slightly in gratitude, sipping it slowly. "Thanks for this." She murmured as a cold feeling seeped into her stomach. She didn't say anything for a moment but the question was burning in her throat and it had to come out, "You were listening, weren't you?"

Catherine knew what Sara was referring to; she wanted to know how much she had heard about her past, and possibly who else had been listening or who else she had told. She nodded slowly, "Yes, but it was only me."

Sara swallowed. Catherine knew. Shit. "You didn't…?" suddenly she was scared. She remembered what had happened when her colleagues in San Francisco had found out about her childhood; the sympathetic looks, the hushed silences. Treated her as though she couldn't do her job, her boss didn't give her any cases with domestic violence cases and she found herself feeling like a second rate CSI.

Catherine shook her head emphatically, "I didn't tell anyone what you said." She watched as Sara relaxed slightly and finally she asked the question that had been niggling at the back of her mind. "How come you called me?"

Sara glanced up, surprised, for a moment she was silent. She cast her head back down again, mumbling, "My phone has…voice activation. While I was trying to talk him down I…I managed to say 'Call – Catherine.' So…it did." Catherine felt her heart slowly sink as she listened to Sara's explanation. It shouldn't, she knew that, she hadn't had any delusions about Sara's feelings towards her—or lack thereof—but maybe on some plane she had hoped that there was a deeper reasoning rather than 'it was convenient.'

"Sara, are you ok to make a statement?" Brass's kindly voice snapped Catherine out of her self berating. She glanced to her side where Sara was tiredly nodding.

Apparently Sara noticed her look, because she looked in her direction a split second later, a tentative smile spreading across her face. "I'll be ok." She assured the blonde, her hand reaching across the minimal distance between them and her fingers twining with Catherine's, causing her to look down to their linked hands. Her heart skipped a jump at the sight of it and she had to force herself to drag her eyes back up to Sara's face. With one last nod she untangled their fingers and stood, suddenly finding that she needed air.

--

"Catherine? What happened?" Grissom's voice shook her out of her reverie.

"Sara managed to call me when the suspect was holding her at gunpoint. She's fine…he's dead." Catherine related the facts, her voice hollow.

"Why didn't you call me?"

Catherine winced, anger flaring up to replace her sorrow. "Sorry but my brain was elsewhere. Is there a particular reason I should have?" she hissed.

"I just thought…" Grissom trailed off, looking at a loss as he so often did when he didn't understand something.

Catherine sighed. "Sorry. I shouldn't have snapped." Honestly, why did she care so much about his feelings? Why the hell couldn't she just jump Sara and be done with it? Either Sara would let things continue or she wouldn't, but at least Catherine wouldn't be left with this emptiness and the urge to hit something. But no, Gil Grissom had come to mean too much to her as a friend that she couldn't bring herself to wreck what might be his one chance at true happiness.

Catherine was snapped out of her thoughts by Brass this time. "Catherine, Gil." He nodded in greeting but said nothing more, words were not needed. They all cared for Sara in their own way and for now they were just going to silently be grateful that she was still there, still ok.

Catherine was the first to break the silence. "I'm going to check on Sara before I go back to the lab." She stated, turning and heading for the door. She found Sara exactly where she had left her, hunched over in the corner of the hotel lobby, the blanket hanging loosely off her shoulders. "Hey." She murmured softly.

Sara looked up and Catherine could see a steely glint in the brown eyes staring back at her, something that looked different to the determined glint she had seen countless times before. "Hi." Sara responded dully.

Catherine's heart wrenched. "You want a lift home?" the words spilled out of her mouth before she could stop them.

To her surprise Sara nodded, "Yeah, that would be great." Sara stood and reached for Catherine's hand once more, swaying slightly as she turned to the door. Catherine's arm instinctively snaked around the younger woman's waist to steady her as she guided her outside.

Gil looked up as he saw the two of them coming. "Sara. How are you?" Catherine could hear the concern hidden behind those words; it was slight but it was there.

"I'm fine. Catherine's taking me home." Catherine was surprised by the cold edge to Sara's voice. She'd heard it before, but only ever directed at her, certainly never Gil.

Grissom nodded. "Ok." He seemed at a loss for what else to say so he stepped back and allowed them to pass. Catherine guided Sara to her car and into the passenger seat. She closed the door and allowed herself a moment to breathe before she rounded the car and slid into the driver's seat.

The blonde knew where Sara's place was having driven her home once before, so she didn't require directions. The drive was instead made in silence and due to her pang of guilt and consequent refusal to look at Sara it wasn't until she pulled the car to a stop that she realised the brunette had seemingly fallen asleep.

Shit!

Catherine dimly remembered the First Aid course she had taken years ago; shock victims should be kept warm and hydrated, and she had a feeling they should be kept conscious. Quickly she hurried around the car and opened Sara's door, shaking her younger colleague slightly. Sara's eyes remained closed. She shook her harder, leaning closer to her, "Sara." The brunette's eyes fluttered open.

"Catherine." The older woman's heart skipped a beat as her name passed Sara's lips, whispered with a hint of smoke. God her voice was sexy.

"Come on Sidle," She mumbled, leaning forward to unbuckle Sara's seat belt and help her out of the car. "Let's get you inside." To her surprise Sara complied willingly, allowing her to help her up the stairs and along the corridor to her apartment door.

Once there Sara merely rested against the wall, her eyes closing leaving Catherine unsure of what she should do. Eventually she opted for patting Sara's pockets slightly awkwardly and manoeuvring her fingers into Sara's jeans until she found her keys. She tried three keys before she found the right one and opened the door to Sara's apartment. Turning back to Sara she noticed her eyes were open once more, and the look she had fixed on her was dark, penetrating, and…turning her on.

Catherine was robbed of the ability to analyse the situation any further as she found herself being pushed back into Sara's apartment, spun around, and slammed up against the now closed door. Sara's lips were on hers, her hands were braced against her hips. The brunette's tongue darted out, brushing along Catherine's lips gently, contrasting against the firm hold on her hips. Catherine couldn't have stopped herself if she tried, her mouth opened and she allowed Sara's tongue to plunder it. All she could manage was to grip Sara's shoulders as her brain overloaded.

A moment later Sara's lips were on her neck, Catherine's legs were wrapped around her waist, Sara's hands were underneath her top, Catherine's hips were rocking as her breath was coming in short gasps. Sara's voice came out in a low groan, "God, I want to fuck you."

Catherine's head tipped back, slamming against the door as she groaned at the prospect, her hips rocking in answer to the idea as her hands slipped down the back of Sara's shirt, her nails raking up the skin of Sara's back. As if all that wasn't enough to draw an accurate conclusion from, the words spilled forth from her lips. "Fuck me, oh God Sara, _fuck _me!"

Sara's hands moved from her skin, returning to the outside of her shirt to attack the buttons with vigour as her lips seized Catherine's once more. Soon Sara's hands were burning a path over her skin. Catherine's shirt fell to the floor as the brunette stumbled the three feet to the bedroom door. A moment later her bra followed it before the two of them tumbled onto the bed.

She was gasping for air, flying higher than she could remember flying before. Each touch of Sara's hands, the press of her slightly smaller breasts into her stomach as her lips closed over her nipple…Catherine was seeing stars as her hips began rocking again. God, she was wet. She wanted Sara…so much. She needed her. She felt the loss keenly when Sara sat back on her haunches, but the feeling when Sara pressed back down into her, and the feel of skin on skin, sent her soaring into the stratosphere. "Fuck." She groaned.

Sara's tongue flicked across her earlobe, "That's the idea." She stated with a hint of a smile in her voice. Catherine felt Sara's hand sliding down to the button of her pants, translating into an increase in the tempo of her thrusting hips. Slowly Sara worked her pants over her hips, pulling them down just enough so she can comfortably slide her hand between her legs. "God, you're sooo _wet_." Sara's voice in her ear sounded delighted, and maybe even a little surprised.

"Sara, Fuck me…Oh GOD, FUCKMENOW!" Catherine was done with being patient, done with enjoying the ride. She needed a release. She needed to feel Sara inside her, above her, around her. Sara's fingers pushed into her heat, Catherine's head tipped back in response as she groaned, her fingers clutching Sara to her desperately. Sara's thigh was pushing into her, plunging her fingers deeper. The muscles in her stomach were so taught they hurt. Getting oxygen was next to impossible. Her hips were thrusting up with an air of desperation. "Oh FUUUCK! So close Sara…oh God...fuuuuck. SARA!" With one last thrust of Sara's fingers Catherine tumbled over the edge, her body going stiff for a moment before shudders wracked through her.

She felt hollow the moment Sara's fingers pulled out, but her eyes flickering open rewarded her with the sight of Sara, looking triumphant, sucking her own fingers into her mouth. It was then Catherine realised how much she wanted to touch Sara, wanted to taste Sara. A split second later and their positions were reversed and Catherine was tugging Sara's jeans over her hips, panties too. Once the jeans were deposited somewhere on the floor she turned her attention back to the woman underneath her. She hesitated for just a moment, hovering over Sara and breathing in her scent.

"You going to stare all night, or are you going to do me?" The vulgar language issuing from Sara's lips maybe should have raised a red flag. Perhaps she should have paid more attention to the brunette than to her own desires, but the fact was talking dirty turned her on, so without any more hesitation she went down on Sara.

Her tongue parted Sara's folds with one swipe, gliding over her opening and upwards. Sara's hips bucked and Catherine shifted so she could hold her down with one arm. She allowed herself to plunge her tongue into Sara's depths once, twice, before she replaced it with her fingers, thrusting inside her as her lips closed over her clit. Sara's fingers were tangled in her hair, pulling slightly but not enough to deter Catherine from her mission.

The younger woman's legs were spread almost as wide as they could go. Her hips were undulating wildly but Catherine held on. Her lips latched onto Sara's clit as she sucked, and licked and swirled her tongue round and round, her fingers pumping inside Sara. She slowed when she felt the first orgasm rip through Sara's body, but she didn't stop. Soon Sara's hips were thrusting again as the second orgasm came over her. Still Catherine didn't remove her fingers, keeping them thrusting in as she rocked backwards so she was kneeling, pulling up Sara's thin frame so the younger woman was riding her hand. Sara's arms wrapped around her neck as she tipped her head back, gasping. "Fuck, oh God Catherine, harder…Harder, HARDER!" Sara's legs were wrapped around her; she was pushing herself onto Catherine's fingers as hard as she could. A moment later Sara's third orgasm shuddered through her and she collapsed back onto the bed, panting.

Catherine collapsed on top of her, exhausted. Gil knew she had taken Sara home; he wasn't going to question why she wasn't at the lab to finish her shift. With that thought running through her head Catherine allowed herself to drift into sleep.

--

When Sara woke the sun was streaming through her bedroom window. The curtains were open. Her head was pounding and it felt as though it was stuffed with cotton wool. The next thing she realised was that she was completely naked and there was someone pressed up against her back, and an arm draped over her hip. Sara froze, trying to recall what had happened.

She remembered going into work early, and Grissom passing her an assignment slip before the rest of the team even turned up. She remembered beginning to process the scene and she remembered the sensation of the bottom of her stomach falling as her heart thumped, painfully reminding her of her own mortality as she felt the barrel of a gun pressing into the back of her head. She remembered trying to talk him down; employing some of the tactics that she had learnt at the hostage negotiation course.

She remembered calling Catherine. Shit!

She remembered agreeing to let Catherine take her home. She remembered pinning Catherine to her front door, she had practically jumped her. But Catherine wasn't supposed to be there when Sara woke. Sara felt the guilt crawling in, worming its way through her as she shifted. She felt the self hatred settle in the pit of her stomach as she pulled away from Catherine, remaining with her back to her as she sat on the side of the bed and wondered what the hell she was meant to do now.

It couldn't have been long that she sat there, thinking, before she felt Catherine shifting on the bed behind her. She felt the hand on her shoulder and she flinched. It dropped. "Sara?" Her name slipped between the blonde's lips as reproach.

Sara winced. "You weren't meant to be here in the morning." Curse her stupid mouth. She shouldn't have said that. Catherine was probably just trying to reassure her. Tell her that it was a mistake, that it should never have happened, and not to let it affect their working relationship. She was probably going to tell her that she understood, that she realised Sara had been feeling vulnerable, and that she had suffered shock, and that craving human company was completely normal. The truth was that it was none of these things. The truth was that it was Catherine she craved, and it sure as hell wasn't limited to that one night. But she couldn't know that. This was, after all, most probably a pity fuck. She now knew how screwed up Sara's childhood had been and she felt bad for her. Catherine probably hadn't had the heart to turn her down after her 'harrowing ordeal'. Sara couldn't deal with that. Better that it be thought she had just wanted a one night stand than to reveal her feelings.

These thoughts moved through her mind in the matter of a moment, and then she felt Catherine shift swiftly behind her, getting off the bed. She heard her hurriedly collecting her clothes. "Fuck you. Sara. Fuck you."

Sara cringed as she heard the words come out of her own mouth, accompanied by a cruel chuckle, "I believe you already did." She heard the movement behind her stop.

"I didn't expect this." Catherine's voice was quiet, practically a whisper. "Hell…I don't know what I expected…but it sure as hell wasn't you behaving like a total _bitch_." Sara felt the muscles in her throat close as she heard the hurt in Catherine's voice. Surely she was imagining things. Slowly she turned to face Catherine, but the blonde was no longer there. All Sara heard was the slam of her apartment door. It took her less than a second to get to her feet and start throwing on some clothes. A minute later she was tearing after Catherine, knowing she couldn't leave things like this between them.

--

Catherine had barely made it to her car when the tears started to fall. Fuck! She felt her knees buckle as she stumbled, her shoulder colliding a moment later with the door of her car. The tears were coming thick and fast now. It hurt to breathe. It hurt each time she felt her heart beat in her chest. Hell, even blinking hurt. Even the hollowness she had felt before was better than this. It felt like a scream was caught in her throat, only it couldn't get out. She wanted to lash out, and she wanted to curl up in a ball and cry. Then she heard her name. She wiped her eyes hurriedly before she turned to see Sara running towards her, barefoot, dressed in jeans and a tank top, obviously not wearing a bra.

"Catherine…I…I didn't mean it like that." Sara puffed, out of breath as she came to a stop a few feet in front of her.

"How did you mean it?" Catherine's tone was cold and clipped. This was the woman who, just moment's ago, had taken her heart out and stomped on it. The tears had stopped now. She no longer felt like crying, not yet. The urge to lash out had taken over.

"I…I meant…I thought it would be easier…" Sara was tripping over her words and Catherine took advantage of it.

"Easier? You thought it would be _easier_ if I just snuck out in the middle of the night and we could both just pretend nothing happened? Because I'm just the lab slut, right? I'm good for a fuck but heaven forbid I might want something more than that."

For a moment Sara was speechless, her mouth opening and closing as her eyes widened. She closed her mouth, shaking her head. "No." Sara stepped closer. "It would be easier if you were gone because…because then I wouldn't have to deal with watching you leave."

Catherine laughed cruelly. "So you feel guilty? Well so you fucking should." She turned, reaching for the door to her car. She had nothing left to say. This was probably for the best. There were too many complications for a relationship between them to work, too much water under the bridge. If only it didn't _hurt_ so much.

"Yes, I feel guilty." Sara's voice behind her was quiet, resigned. "I didn't want to hurt you…I just…I didn't want to be hurt either." Catherine turned. Sara was standing with her arms wrapped around her waist, her head down, her shoulders hunched. A classic defensive position. Well it wasn't going to work.

"Well you have." And with that she pulled the door open to her car and got in, slamming it behind her. She put the car into gear and hit the gas pedal, leaving a tearful Sara Sidle barefoot in the parking lot.

--

Sara inhaled. Catherine had indicated that there was something on her end. If there was the remotest possibility that was true she had to try. With steely determination she opened the door to Catherine's office.

Catherine glanced up, hearing her door open and close. Standing in front of her was the one and only Sara Sidle. She cast her eyes back down and pretended she was still doing her paperwork. She had nothing to say.

Sara gathered her courage. "Watching you walk out, hearing you say it was a mistake…or a pity fuck because of my messed up childhood…that would have killed me."

Suddenly Catherine found it a little harder to breathe. She raised her eyes, "Is that how you see me?"

Sara bit her lip, considering the question. "I see you as…unattainable. A fantasy."

The blonde rested her head in her hands, exhaling loudly. "You had your chance. Fool me once shame on you, fool me twice shame on me." She wasn't going to fall for this, she wasn't. Sara was…twisting things, she had to be. Everyone had seen her attraction to Gil. She might not understand exactly _why_ she was twisting things, but she had to be. She was the unattainable one. The Harvard graduate with the gorgeous eyes, the cute smile, and the legs to die for.

Catherine heard a noise, a light thump, and then nothing. Curiosity getting the better of her she glanced up. Her eyes widened at the sight of Sara Sidle kneeling on the floor before her. "Please Catherine," She whispered, "Can you just tell me…there's a chance? I know I messed up but…I do…care about you."

She swallowed. The girl certainly had guts. Catherine would never have resorted to begging, and it certainly flattered her that Sara would. Slowly she rose from her chair and moved around the other side of her desk. She brought her hand underneath Sara's chin and slowly guided the younger woman to her feet. "Don't do that again." She murmured. "If we have any sort of relationship, it's as equals, do you understand?" Sara nodded. She didn't have the opportunity to elaborate as the next moment her lips were engaged with Catherine's.

--

"I just got another call out, anyone?" Grissom looked around the locker room expectantly. Sara, Nick, Warrick and Greg looked back at him blankly. Shift was almost over, they just wanted to leave. Grissom turned to his protégé, "Sara?" He enjoyed spending time with her, and he had missed her since she started working less over time.

"Sorry Gil, I have a date." Sara responded causing slack jawed looks all around. A moment later she spied Catherine over Grissom's shoulder and her face split into a beam. It might have been four months into their relationship but they were still well entrenched in the honeymoon phase. "There she is now." She slipped past Grissom, linking her hand with Catherine's as the two of them strolled towards the exit.

Grissom watched them leave sadly; he was too late, that was for sure.

* * *

A/N: Feedback is much appreciated.


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